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“I didn’t say that.” I look around, catching the eye of the server and nodding. “I have no issue with you ordering alcohol.”

“Hi,” the young lady says. “Ready to order?”

I point at the option Zara and I agreed on. “Can we please order this?”

“And drinks?”

“I’ll have a Coke, please, and…” I look at Zara expectantly.

“I’ll have one too.”

“Perfect.” The server tucks her tablet underneath her arm and collects the menus. “I’ll be out with your drinks and your appetizers soon.”

When she’s out of earshot, I look back at Zara. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know,” she assures me. “I did it because I wanted to.”

Her choice to just blindly do something for me without asking any questions has me eager to explain myself. “My oldest foster brother is a recovering addict. Drugs, not alcohol. And I kind of made the decision to make his journey mine and not really indulge in any of that stuff.”

“How’s he doing?” she asks, surprising me. “Your foster brother.”

“Arlo,” I say with a smile. “He’s doing really well.”

“Ah. Leo, one of Raine’s dads, is also on his recovery journey,” she says.

“Really?” My interest is piqued, loving that there are things about her and the people in her life I don’t know.

“I thought Raine might’ve told you.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I know you had her at sixteen and she has two dads. All the other stuff is the little details of information you collect along the way.”

Her expression turns pensive, and it looks like there’s something she wants to say, but she holds it back, and I don’t press.

“You know, come to think of it…” She taps her manicured finger to her lips. “I think she mentioned a Clem once or twice. And I never really even thought to connect the dots.”

“Neither Clem or Clementine are common, so it’s not really a surprise that you didn’t.”

“But Raine doesn’t call you Clementine, does she? Because there’s no way I would’ve missed that.”

I take a sip of my water, holding her chocolate-colored gaze before admitting, “I only let you call me Clementine.”

My revelation has the corner of her mouth tipping up before she asks, “What’s your full name?”

“Don’t make fun,” I warn, and she shakes her head and purses her lips together. “It’s Clementine Blake Ford.”

“That’s a gorgeous name,” she compliments. “It’s so?—”

“Pretty,” I blurt out, my face scrunched up. “It’s so pretty.”

“I have never met someone who is so offended at how pretty something sounds.”

“It’s just... It’s just a little delicate for me. That’s why Clem works. It’s more…” I wave my hands around, searching for the words. “It’s more rough and tumble.”

She raises a brow. “And you’re rough and tumble?”

“Hey,” I chide playfully. “You don’t know all the sides there are to me.”

“Yet,” she throws in nonchalantly. “I don’t know them all,yet.”